


Forgive Me, Darling (I Almost Let You Go)

by sarcastic_fina



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: F/M, Insecurity, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 12:57:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcastic_fina/pseuds/sarcastic_fina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce lets his insecurities get the better of him, sabotaging his relationship, but when he sees somebody else about to make a move on his girl, he realizes it's now or never.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgive Me, Darling (I Almost Let You Go)

  


There were a lot of regrets in Bruce's life; enough that most of them kept him up at night. There were days his entire existence felt like a regret; one he'd once tried to rectify with poor results. But if he were being honest with himself, he appreciated that it hadn't had a lasting effect. His life had gotten better; he now had a purpose in that made him feel like ever getting into the field of gamma-radiation wasn't a regret that had to overshadow his entire life.

He didn't always feel that way, especially when the Hulk faded and every single muscle in his body ached and burned from being stretched beyond comfort. Other days, though, he would look at the good he'd done and feel accomplished. He'd look at the footage of his greener side helping save the world or he'd reflect on the medical care he'd provided for underprivileged people while he was on the run and he would think that maybe it was worth it.

Most of his regrets were of the life-altering variety. Becoming the Hulk, letting that part of himself, riddled with anger, harm innocent people, destroying everything in its path. Being with Betty even though he knew he wasn't in control enough for a relationship; that he didn't have any way to assure her safety and in the end put her in more danger.

Three years into being an Avenger, his list of regrets grew shorter. He was able to work again, to apply everything in his mind to a better world. And when The Other Guy came out, it was usually for a good cause. His regrets became little things; like leaving poky thinks around Tony, who felt it was his job to constantly prod and test Bruce. Or that time he found out Betty was getting married and he got  _severely_ drunk before somehow managing to fall asleep, crying in Natasha's lap. He was fairly sure the only reason he was still alive was because the Hulk wouldn't  _let_ him die. But those were all fixable or embarrassing things he wouldn't repeat.

The regret that plagued him now was something he knew he had to do something about. Because if he let it continue, he was never going to forgive himself.

He and Darcy had been dancing around something for two years. Somewhere along the way, she became a fixture in his life and, like Tony, saw spending time with him as a way to expose him to social interaction so he wouldn't be so skittish. But while Tony's way was to be loud and attention-getting,  _forcing_ Bruce to play along with him or inviting him to help invent, sometimes for good things and other times for purely fun pranking purposes. Darcy's way of exposing him to the real world was to constantly be in his space; if he was within reach, she was touching him. If she wanted his attention, she had no qualms about pressing herself against his back and speaking directly against his ear until he was too distracted to pay any attention to his work.

Darcy was affectionate and quirky and smart-mouthed. And she made it very aware that she wanted him. Every morning, she walked into the lab, her hips swaying, and leaned down to fold the collar of his lab coat back. Sometimes it wasn't crooked or he didn't forget to lay it down flat, but it never stopped her from doing it. An excuse, he noticed, just to touch him, to be near him. And it worked; her wrists always smelled faintly of her vanilla body spray. He'd become very attached to that scent recently.

Their relationship didn't progress for a long time, however. Bruce was hesitant to get involved with her, with the disastrous results of trying with Betty still very fresh in his mind. Darcy wasn't so easily swayed, however. She took his apologetic rejection as more of a challenge than anything. She touched him more, spent more time in his lab, just sitting on his desk, playing with things, listening to him talk about his latest project. She made it clear that the Hulk didn't scare her and she didn't think it was a good enough excuse not to date.

It was admirable, if completely insane.

Sometimes her lack of fear made him angry; that she would put herself directly in his path when she knew full well what he could do. She'd read his file folder, she'd ignored the warnings, she'd sneered at anyone who cringed or flinched when he walked by. And really, as much as it bothered him that she didn't seem to care about her safety, there was something else inside him that appreciated how little she worried, that she'd grown to accept this other half of him as yes, a dangerous and difficult part, but worth it in the end.

So it really shouldn't have surprised him when, six months ago, things finally hit their boiling over point and he gave in.

Darcy had been sitting on his desk, hours after when the rest of the lab had emptied out and people had hung up their lab coats. She was holding a cupcake, one with noticeably green frosting, and she'd been teasing him. "Seriously, I think science will survive one night without you, Doc…" She winked. "All I'm asking for is a couple hours; me, you, a totally friendly dinner…" She shrugged. "You can come back tomorrow and get nice and cozy with your equations, I won't even be jealous, promise!" She waved the cupcake in front of him. "Come on, give in to the sugary goodness; you say yes and I'll let you have this bad boy all to yourself."

He was smiling, amused by her tenacity, an eyebrow raised and a protest fresh on the tip of his tongue.

But then she reached a little too far and the frosting rubbed off on his nose, a dollop of mint green just sitting there at the tip. His eyes had crossed to stare at it.

Laughing warmly, a robust, lively sound, Darcy simply reached over and swiped it off before licking her curved finger clean. "Tastes even better off you."

And he wasn't sure what it was; that she was so lighthearted and carefree with him, that the frosting had been green, or that the casual touch was the last he could take. But Bruce stood from his chair, plucked his glasses from his face and ducked a finger in the icing of her cupcake. She watched, brows raised in surprised, until he smeared that same frosting over her lips, which parted at his touch.

And then, not caring about the consequences, Bruce put all of his focus on cleaning it from her, with nipping bites and light, teasing swipes of his tongue, sucking her lips of every last bit of green.

The cupcake fell from her fingers, landing frosted-side down on the floor as she reached up and dragged him in closer, gripping the shoulders of his lab coat.

JARVIS, thankfully, turned the cameras away because it wasn't long after that when Bruce had started dragging clothes off of her. Her shirt went first, getting tangled in her hair. She gave a huff and tore it away, throwing it haphazardly, not noticing when it landed on a nearby computer. She was kicking off her shoes as he undid the zipper and button on her jeans, and while she was shimmying them off, he leaned down and pressed biting kisses over her breasts, nearly spilling from her bright orange bra.

She buried a hand at the nape of his neck and gripped his hair tight as he mouthed his way down and sucked on her nipple through the vivid fabric, grazing with his teeth.

"Not fair. You're still too dressed," she complained, leaning on her elbows, back arched up to accommodate his mouth.

He shoved his pants and underwear down and away, but he didn't care about his shirt or lab coat, getting distracted by her legs as she spread them, balancing a heel on the edge of the desk on either side of him.

"Fuck," he muttered, his hand dropping, heel pressing against the strip of dark hair leading down to her pussy.

"Admire later," she muttered, leaning up and gripping his shirt in two hands; she tore it open, sending buttons flying, and grinned up at him. "I've always wanted to do that," she admitted. "What's with guys getting to have all the fun anyway?"

He rolled his eyes. "You were wearing a t-shirt."

She shrugged. "So you'll be going through a lot of shirts, something to think about." She scrubbed her hand down his stomach and bit her lip, eyes flashing as his cock jerked the closer she got to it.

When she finally wrapped her hand around him, his hips jerked hard and he let out a long groan, his vision turning sideways for a second as she stroked and pumped, twisting her wrist.

"Stop, stop…" He reached down and squeezed her forearm. He took a deep breath and tried to focus, but every breath smelled like her; like sex and vanilla. His hand moved of its own volition and suddenly he had his whole palm pressed against her wet, spread heat; he could feel her clit throbbing just under his middle finger.

She let out a whimper. "Green…" She let out a breathy chuckle. "Looks good on ya."

His eyes opened and he looked down at himself; his skin had taken on a warning, greenish tint.

Before he could pull away and tell her it was a bad idea, she reached down and led his fingers lower. They sunk inside her and curved instinctively; his chest swelled up as he watched her writhe, her mouth gaping open, her brow furrowed, as she panted his name, " _Bruce_ …"

And suddenly he really didn't care that he was a little green; all he cared about was making her do that again.

She was so wet and tight around his fingers as they moved slowly, dragging out only to thrust back in harder.

He reached with his free hand and dragged the fabric of her bra out of the way, rasping his palm over her breast, twisting and flicking her nipple. Her thighs shook and she squeezed around him, her head thrown almost painfully back.

He watched as his skin flashed pink and then green before he ducked his head down and dragged his tongue over her clit; she came hard, toes curling against the desk.

He sunk into her while she was still babbling his name, squeezing and fluttering. He didn't move though; letting her get used to him. He smoothed his hand down the top of her thigh and kneaded down to her hip, his thumb tracing the crease in-between. It didn't take long; she slid her legs around his waist and dug her heels into the tops of his ass. "Now. Please. I—I need you to—" She nodded, urging him.

He started slow; it'd been so long since he'd done this. But it wasn't long before he'd found a rhythm that they both liked, increasing in pace. He watched himself pistoning in and out of her, plucking her nipple in tandem with his hips. He knew he wasn't going to last, but he wanted to make it good.

He leaned down and replaced his hand with his mouth as he felt himself getting close and ghosted a hand between them to pinch her clit. She screamed as she climaxed and his teeth rasped against her nipple before he turned his cheek down against her breast and came with a guttural groan.

He didn't move for a long time, his knees weak, his skin slowly returning to a flushed shade of pink, sticky and stuck to her. Her fingers were running through his hair while she muttered,  _'fluffy'_ under her breath.

Sweaty and panting, her legs loose around him, she told him in a rough voice, "That dinner you're taking me to tonight? Totally not friendly anymore…"

And thus, a secret relationship was born.

His fault, really. After he'd managed to find his self-control, obviously far too late, he'd taken her out for dinner, wherein he told her he didn't think it was a good idea that they made their relationship status known. Partly because he really didn't want SHIELD intervening and listing all the ways things had gone wrong with Betty and they didn't think he should be entertaining a repeat with Darcy. A little because he had enemies; he was an Avenger and he hadn't exactly been making friends prior to joining the team; General Ross would only be too glad to find Bruce had another weakness to exploit. But mostly, and he knew it was stupid, because he was worried Darcy would realize her mistake, leave him in the dust and move on, and he really didn't want to get the pitying looks from team and staff alike.

Six months down the line, one would think that fear would be long gone. And, for the most part, it was. So he shouldn't have been surprised when Darcy mentioned that she thought it would be a good idea to fill out the paperwork SHIELD required when people had entered a relationship. She even proposed taking the whole team out and just telling them they were together before plying them with alcohol so they wouldn't have to explain the ins and outs or answer many questions, like why the hell it took so long or how long  _exactly_ that they'd been dating.

But Bruce had been hesitant, wondering if maybe they shouldn't. If maybe the relationship they had, behind the scenes, away from prying eyes, actually worked better for them. Secrecy had a way of weighing on any relationship, though. And Darcy was the kind of person who liked being out and about; she didn't care who was looking or why. She wanted to be able to hold his hand and walk down the street or watch a movie and not have him pull away from her as soon as anyone else entered the room. And he understood that, he did, he just…

He felt so insecure sometimes.

Like he was incapable of being happy and if he put too much focus on it, something would happen to burst that bubble. If they came out as a couple, would the team be supportive? Would SHIELD approve it? Would Ross find out or some other enemy that might use her as a bargaining chip? He cited these reasons to her, calmly he'd thought, but Darcy had simply sighed at him.

In all the time he'd known her, he wasn't sure he'd ever seen her defeated. Darcy was more like Tony; if somebody said she couldn't do something, she did everything in her power to prove them wrong. Or, if she couldn't, she tasered them. There was a reason Fury took her taser away, actually. Not that it mattered, since Tony just gave her another one; unfortunately, an even stronger one, so…

But here, now, while he laid out the facts for his reasoning, while he hypothesized how he thought it would play out, while he tried to convince her that, weren't they happy? Couldn't they just be happy like this? He saw the first signs of resignation in her face. She went from hopeful and smiling and looking happy as she curled up against his side, playing with the buttons on his shirt as they watched his old Firefly DVD's, to defeated. Her smile faded into something that was forced, before she nodded, pushing away from him.

He reached for her, but she avoided his fingers. "Darcy…"

"I'm gonna head home," she muttered, gathering up her bag and her funky tie-dye scarf.

"Wait. I—I don't think I said this right," he argued, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I'm not… It's not that I…" He sighed. "I just think…"

"Stop."

He stared up at her, his brows furrowed.

She shook her head. "I know I'm not who you expected to be with and I was fine with that." She threw her hands up. "It took me two years to get you to give me a real chance, so…" She shrugged. "It wasn't really a  _surprise!_ "

He frowned. "That's  _not_ —"

But she barreled ahead, "I—I got over the whole broody, blamey, I-hate-myself trip that you took  _way_ too often. And I put up with how you always bring up Betty as a reason why going public is a crap idea. And I tried to pretend like it doesn't hurt when I can  _feel_ you hiding me and…"

Bruce could feel his heart pounding in his chest; an ache that told him this was going to be a regret. Making her feel that way; knowing that he did this, he screwed this up…

She bit her lip, turning her eyes up as they burned. "But I can't do this anymore with you. I can't— I'm not some dirty little secret that you say you want to be with but then only let yourself when nobody's paying attention…"

He opened his mouth, but he didn't know what to say. How did someone apologize for that? Because that… that wasn't what he'd been  _trying_ to do. It wasn't how he felt about her and it wasn't how he was trying to make her feel. But… Was she right? Did he do that to her? And if he did, then did he even deserve to be forgiven?

She crossed her arms over her chest and gnawed at her lip before she finally nodded. "So I'm just gonna do us both a favor, okay?" She hitched her bag higher on her shoulder. "You figure yourself out and I'll keep it to myself that for a little while there, you actually let yourself be happy." She shrugged. "We wouldn't want anybody to think that for just a minute, the tortured scientist actually believed in those crap happily-ever-after scenarios, right?"

He stared at the floor as she finished, before his eyes snapped close as he listened to her retreating footsteps.

When the door slammed shut, he flinched.

Bruce dropped his head into his hands, gripping and tugging at his hair, and told himself it was better not to chase after her.

Some of his regrets, he tried to justify.

Darcy was better off without him.

Obviously he'd been an awful boyfriend if he'd made her feel that way.

Given everything he'd done in his life, intentional or not, he probably didn't deserve to have her in his life.

But those justifications didn't hold a whole lot of water when he spotted her talking to Marcus from marketing. And what even  _was_ that anyway? 'Marcus from marketing.' It was like he'd  _planned_ it. Like he'd gone to college and thought, 'Oh, how funny my title would be; it'll be a great ice breaker.' What an asshole!

So maybe he was jumping to conclusions. In truth, Bruce had only met Marcus once, in passing, and he'd seemed nice enough. He hadn't flinched when he'd made eye contact, at least, and that was a pretty shining endorsement in Bruce's life.

At least it was until Marcus from marketing was blatantly flirting with Darcy in the break room. Like, reaching out and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. Hair that Marcus probably didn't know Darcy spent an hour on every morning; from shampooing and conditioning, twice, to blow-drying out, to either curling or flat-ironing with this weird cream, that smelled overly floral in his opinion, rubbed in from root to tip to keep it from burning. Hair that Marcus didn't know Darcy liked having pulled, just a little, when she was getting fucked, making her clench and cry out whenever he did it. Or that she practically purred when her hair was being stroked when they cuddled.

Darcy was saying something he couldn't hear, but Marcus was laughing; obviously, too deeply, almost obnoxiously, and reaching out to rest a hand on her shoulder. She looked at it, her brow furrowed for a moment.

He was standing close enough that Bruce wondered if Marcus could smell her perfume or the cinnamon body wash she used every morning. Or if he could see that her lipstick was two different shades of red because she liked them both and thought they emphasized her lips in different ways. Could he see the scalene triangle of moles on her left cheek? The same he'd kiss every morning before they went their separate ways for work.

Six months he'd spent exploring every inch of Darcy's body, pushing the limits of his control, trying desperately to have a normal, functioning relationship with a woman that he'd fallen in love with. Her snarky sense of humor, her loud personality, her habit of stealing his shirts and wearing them to work.

Two years he spent fighting and six months he let himself enjoy it before he forced it to blow up in his face.

And now here was Marcus. Normal, regular, Marcus from marketing, flirting with Darcy like it the easiest, most natural thing in the world.

Like he didn't have to worry about the consequences; he didn't have to second guess himself; he didn't have to worry about her not being able to put up with his large, green alter ego. Like it was so easy to fall in love and let go and just enjoy himself.

And the thing was, Bruce remembered moments like that. He remembered being with her and not worrying; not about SHIELD or Ross or even Hulk. Because when he was with her, that stuff faded away just enough that he actually  _was_ happy. Happier than he ever remembered or imagined being. How much better could that have been if he hadn't stifled it?

When he crossed the room, he wasn't sure he was thinking straight. His first instinct was to deck Marcus in the face and stare down, satisfied, as that very real fear finally filled his face. But he curbed that instinct, even if his hand fisted at his side and a feral growl echoed in his mind.

Marcus saw him first and stood a little taller. "Hey, Dr. Banner," he greeted, offering a half-smile. "Darcy was just telling me this really funny story about—"

Bruce nodded, never slowing, before his arm was around Darcy's waist and he'd pulled her into a kiss. Maybe she was caught off-guard or maybe she was just used to it, but she didn't immediately turn around and slap him across the face or shove him away, so he took it as a good sign.

He pulled her in against his chest so quickly that she'd made an  _oof!_  noise, muffled as his mouth had slanted across hers. Three days had never felt longer than when he was finally kissing her again. He sighed, his brows furrowed, as his other hand rose up and cupped her cheek, tracing it with his thumb as his fingers spread out, reaching, burying in her hair and tracing her ear.

He could feel her hands on his sides, fingers dug in hard, but he wasn't sure if it was because she was protesting without making a scene or because she was enjoying it. It wouldn't be the first time she dug her nails in and scraped them down his back or tore at his shoulders; although usually that was when she was seconds away from coming.

He kissed her a little harder, nibbling at her bottom lip before he traced her teeth and flicked the roof of her mouth with his tongue. She hummed, her hands sliding up along his back, beneath his lab coat. And he knew things were going to get a lot less PG if they kept going, because the world was fading away, leaving only her. Which generally meant his office desk was about to be used for more than just science; only usually there wasn't an audience...

A throat clearing finally drew his attention and Bruce carefully disentangled himself from her, his eyes cutting to the left first, spotting a wide-eyed, awkward looking Marcus. Was it wrong that he smirked at the man, looking smug and satisfied? Maybe. But it didn't stop him.

Marcus wasn't who had made the noise, however; it was Fury, currently glaring at them from a few feet away.

There was also an approving cat-call whistling through the air that Bruce recognized as Tony. He glared in his friend's general direction, but when he spotted him, Tony was clapping in between giving him a thumbs-up.

"Dr. Banner, Miss Lewis," Fury said darkly, "My office.  _Now_." He turned and walked away, long black trench coat swishing at his back.

"He's like a muggle Snape," Darcy muttered, reaching up to wipe at her swollen mouth with her thumb.

He stared down at her. "On a scale of one to ten, exactly how angry are you with me?" he wondered.

She raised an eyebrow and looked up at him. "We broke up three days ago… The only reason you're doing this is because you're a possessive jackhole who got mad when some other dude made a move…" Her lips pursed. "What do you think?"

"I think I'm an idiot," he said, frowning. "Look, Darcy, the reason I wasn't telling anybody about us had nothing to do with you, not really. It was my own revolving door of issues." He shook his head. "And I took them out on you; I let them get in the way of something that means  _everything_  to me…" He stared at her searchingly. "I screwed up and I let you go. I didn't fight for you, I didn't…" He sighed, hating that words failed him.

"Grow the balls to tell everybody about us?"

His lips twitched. "Yes." He nodded. "What happened with Betty, and I know you don't like me using it as an example, but it was big. And it changed things for me. It convinced me that being in a relationship was practically impossible." His jaw tightened. "I loved her to the point where I believed that if she couldn't handle me,  _nobody_ could…" He squeezed his arm around her. "So when I started having feelings for you, I tried to convince myself that it wouldn't work. And when things got serious, I was still waiting for the bottom to fall out."

"You  _made_ it fall out," she reminded, glaring. "Nobody else cares that we're dating." She threw a hand out. "Tony's practically naming our children as we speak and—" She turned and shouted, "No! Nobody is naming anyone Tonya!"

"Spoilsport!" Tony yelled back. "I demand a vote!"

Rolling her eyes, Darcy looked up at Bruce. "Look, I want to be with you, despite the fact that you were a grade-A asshat. But it's not going to be the same. Like public dates that are actually  _called_ dates and no more sneaking out before sunrise or pushing me away when other people are around." Her eyes widened. "I'm serious. If you pull any of that crap again, I'm out." She cut a hand through the air. "I will slash your proverbial tires and burn everything I have that reminds me of you,  _including_ your desk!"

He bit his lip, stifling a smile, and nodded. "Agreed."

She stared up at him warily, but slowly, she reached up and fixed the collar on his lab coat. "Good… Then we should go see Fury before he pops a vein…"

"He'll probably just glare at us awhile and then make us sign those papers saying that we're engaging in a relationship and can't hold SHIELD responsible if it goes South…" He kept his arm around her waist as they started down the hallway.

She snorted. "And probably something about how if I get smashed by the Hulk while we're in bed, it was totally my fault…"

He shrugged, nodding. "Makes sense."

"I want details!" Tony called after him as they were leaving the break room, motioning with his hand to gesture 'call me.'

Bruce rolled his eyes at him and shook his head.

"You know you're not totally forgiven yet, right?" she said, arching an eyebrow at him.

"I'm hoping the 'reunion' sex is going to gain me a few points in the forgiven column," he returned, half-grinning.

"It might," she admitted.

He chuckled under his breath before tugging her closer and leaning down to kiss her temple.

She smoothed a hand down his front as she pressed into his side. "Is it totally cavewoman that the possessive thing made me a little hot?"

He shook his head. "After we get away from Fury's judgmental stare, I say we take a half-day…" He smirked. "Get some cupcakes and celebrate…"

She laughed, her head falling back, and he watched her, his heart swelling in his chest.

"I'm sorry," he told her, rubbing a hand up and down her back soothingly. "Darcy, being with you…" He shook his head. "I've got a lot of regrets in my life, but you are never going to be one…" He shrugged. "If I'd just stop sabotaging it anyway."

She poked his chest. "That'd be a good start."

As they came to a stop in front of Fury's office, she inhaled deeply. "So? You're ready?"

He turned to look at her, at the half-smile that said she was nervous, the triangle of beauty-marks on her cheek, the two-toned lipstick, and the loose purple t-shirt she was wearing that he was almost certain was his.

"Yeah," he said, feeling the certainty he'd been missing before. "I'm ready."

[ **End.** ]

  
  



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